Watching Over Me: A Dreams Novel

by Kamery Solomon

  “Do you remembered what happened to the house over there?”

  “The Parish house?” Walking into the hall, she came toward us, looking out the window at the wreckage. “It caught on fire about six or seven years ago. I think it was something like a gas leak? Lightning strike? I don’t remember exactly, but it was an accident. Such a horrible tragedy. Their son was a student at UD, home for break when it happened. He got caught in the fire.”

  “Is he okay?” I asked, shocked. I couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like, to be stuck in something like that.

  “No. He passed away a few days later in the hospital. The family never came back to the house. It’s a shame that they left it destroyed like that, but I understand. I wouldn’t want to go back if my Meg had been killed in our home.”

  “How awful.” We all stood at the window, looking at the ruin, and I felt a sour feeling in my stomach. Suddenly, even this house didn’t feel so relaxing.

  “I wish I could remember what it was that happened.” Mrs. Carpenter pursed her lips, eyes narrowing as she thought. “We get pretty bad storms here, especially during hurricane season. You have to leave for higher ground immediately when they strike. But there’s no school break during that season. Hmmm . . . . I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Meg said, watching her go back to her office. Turning back to me and the window, she sighed. “Well, that was a bit of a downer.”

  “That poor family,” I agreed. “I had no idea that something like had happened to one of the students.”

  “It was a few years ago. Everyone who would know about it has probably left or is in the company. The teachers wouldn’t feel the need to tell us.” Shrugging, she slouched back in her chair, picking up her book. “I kinda wish I didn’t know about it, to be honest. Now I won’t be able to see that house without thinking about how someone died because of that fire.”

  “Me either,” I replied gently. “I hope the Parish family is doing better now.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “It’s okay, Dad.” I laughed, pressing the cell phone harder against my ear, trying to hear him better. “You can’t help that you’re snowed in.”

  “I know, but I was really looking forward to seeing you in your first professional show tonight.” His voice crackled through the speaker, breaking up every few seconds.

  “There will be other performances. Besides, they’re recording it, so you’ll be able to see it anyway.” Trying to comfort him, I checked my lipstick in the dressing room mirror, the bright lights heating the room with all the other bulbs lining the mirrored space. Other dancers moved behind me, getting ready for the night at their own pace.

  “If I’d left a day sooner . . .” He went on for another minute, apologizing for his canceled flight. “What about Christmas? You’re going to have to spend it alone.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured him again. “And I’ll call you on Christmas. I already got the presents you mailed, so we can do that over the phone and you can open yours later. The weather report says the storm you’re in right now is heading for us, so I’m most likely grounded here as well.”

  “She can spend Christmas with me, Mr. Redford,” Meg called from beside me, carefully applying her mascara. “I won’t let her be alone.”

  “Thank you, Meg,” he replied sincerely. “Break a leg tonight.”

  “You got it,” she answered, after I had relayed the message.

  “I have to go now, sweetie,” he said, speaking to me again. “Call me and let me know how it went, okay? I want to hear all about it.”

  “I will, but probably not until tomorrow. They’re having the masked ball after we’re done, since it’s closing night. I guess they do it every year right before break.”

  “A whole two weeks I could have come and seen the show and I wanted to wait until closing,” he said, exasperated. “Such is my luck. But, okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too, Scarlet.”

  Hanging up the phone, I checked myself in the mirror again, adjusting the skirt of my first costume. We’d performed the ballet fifteen times already, but I was still nervous with each one. The company members told me that the nerves would always be there, I would just learn how to adjust to them better the longer I was here.

  We’d returned to UD after our four-day Thanksgiving break, to a rush of final dress rehearsals and costume fittings. Any moment that wasn’t spent dancing was spent sleeping, as I discovered just what it meant to be part of a professional dance company.

  Sir never resurfaced. My first night back, I went to the practice room, only to find all the doors locked and lights dark. After that, I didn’t return. If he wanted to meet, he’d get word to me.

  The silence stung my heart. Wondering if I could have said something different to him that would have helped him understand why I needed to know who he was, I worked even harder in all of my classes, trying to forget my missing teacher. The flame in my body was dying out, the memory of him fading away, even though I could easily recall how he tasted and the tips of his fingers in my hair.

  “Fifteen minute warning,” a voice called over the backstage speaker system.

  “Let’s do this,” Meg said enthusiastically, rising from her seat. “Want to warm up at the barre with me real quick?”

  “Yeah.” Putting Sir from my thoughts yet again, I followed her out the exit and into the hall, walking down the corridor to the stage door.

  Once backstage, we warmed up at one of the barres placed toward the rear of the wings, out of sight of the audience. Their noises were buzzing at a comfortable level on the other side of the curtains, an eagerness to their tones.

  “Sounds like a full house,” I commented.

  If it were a full house that would be wonderful; the auditorium could hold almost three thousand people. The stage at UD was boasted as one of the most beautiful in the city, hosting not only the UD dancers, but several touring companies and shows. It was a great honor indeed to be able to dance here.

  “Or just a loud crowd.” Meg winked at me, stretching her leg across the barre. “Either way, it’s closing night and we’re going to rock it!”

  “Yes, we are,” I agreed.

  Suddenly, the audience began to quiet and a voice came over the speakers for all to hear. The butterflies in my stomach increased some; it was time to begin.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the voice said amiably, the bass reverberating through the entire building. “Welcome to this evening’s performance of Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker. Please remember to turn off your cell phones and refrain from all photography or filming, as a respect to your fellow viewers, as well as the performers. Should you need to leave the auditorium for any reason, such as a crying child, the program can continue to be viewed on several monitors in the foyer. Thank you for joining us and, from everyone at United Dance Corps, may we wish you Happy Holidays.”

  Almost instantly, the overture began, the live orchestra in the pit playing to perfection over the applause of the audience. Each sound was clear and concise, directed flawlessly by the conductor, whom I could see on a monitor backstage.

  Moving into position with the rest of the corps dancers, I readied to enter the scene. The show began with us making our way to a party, greeting each other in the “street,” and entering through a set piece that looked like the front of a house. Fake snow was already falling from overhead into a specially made box on the ground that would be quickly removed from the floor when the scene changed.

  As the introductory number ended, the curtains rose to more clapping; it was time to truly start. Taking a deep breath, I followed along with the music, Meg my partner as we walked on, miming a conversation until we came to two men who had entered from the other side. Curtseying, we allowed them to kiss our gloved hands and escort us into the house. The action was continued in varying forms by the other dancers as Meg and I rushed backstage, removing our gloves, c
oats, and hats, readying for the change of scene. Once all of the corps had made it inside the house and off the stage again, backstage workers hurriedly changed the set behind a closed curtain.

  My nerves were finally calming as we got on with the show, the music soothing me as I let myself become the character that I was. No longer was I backstage, waiting to enter and perform. Instead, I was a guest at a party, excited to be celebrating Christmas with my friends and exchange presents.

  Right before the curtain was raised again, we all took our spots around an extremely well decorated tree, avoiding the other set pieces that made up the room we were in. As the audience was let back into the performance, several children from the company’s dance studio entered and the story of The Nutcracker really began.

  As I went through the motions of visiting with the other adults and watching the children dance, I felt my skin prickle under the eyes of the audience. It was indeed a full house tonight, with several whole families having come to enjoy a holiday treat with their kids. There was something more to the feeling, though.

  Was Sir in the audience tonight, perhaps? The thought filled me with warmth and I suddenly hoped it was true and that I would see him tonight.

  The children left the stage and I smiled, stepping out to perform the adult’s portion of the scene. As my movements began, I let all thoughts slip from my mind, everything becoming about the dance and how it made me feel. It didn’t matter that it was closing night and I would never be performing this specific version of this show again. Now was a time to get lost in myself and sell the dance.

  It wasn’t complicated by any means, or even that heavily influenced by the ballet style, but my heart felt like it was soaring as I moved, my body connecting in a way that I hadn’t ever really achieved before. The music filled me and I answered without even having to think about it, my frame knowing just what to do. The smiles of the other dancers flashed around me as we moved and I was suddenly struck with how perfectly happy I felt.

  This was it. This is what I was working for, moments like this on the stage, where we all became one with the music. It was like magic, a high that could never be replicated by anything. In order to experience the pure joy and happiness that was felt on this floor, one would have to dance on it again and again. Never before had I felt so clearly that I belonged somewhere.

  Suddenly, I became aware that we had stopped, the audience applauding heartily in front of us; our first movement was done. Easily, I fell back into the acting, waiting hungrily for the next time I would dance.

  “You did wonderfully,” Miss Gini said as we gathered our things out of the dressing room. “You’re attending the masked ball, of course?” She was already dressed in her party attire, a gorgeous, Spanish style gown hugging her frame and a delicate wire mask tied to her face.

  “We have to go back to our room and change,” Meg answered. “Fashionably late, you know.”

  “Well, please don’t miss it. We want all of our dancers to be in attendance. It’s a tradition.”

  “We’ll hurry,” I assured her. “We should have brought our dresses here, but I didn’t even think about it.”

  “I’m ready to go,” Meg announced, shouldering her bag. “We’ll be there shortly, Miss Gini.”

  Nodding, Gini turned and left the dressing room, hailing someone down the hall.

  “As if I could miss the ball.” Meg snorted. “My mom will be there and she would kill me if I wasn’t.”

  “I want to go. It sounds like fun.” Smiling, I followed her out of the room, heading in the opposite direction from our teacher.

  A while later, after showers and primping, we arrived in the massive foyer of the UD auditorium, where the masked ball was already well under way. Meg looked glorious in her white gown, her swan mask held to her face on a dainty stick. Immediately, she was swooped down upon by some young man who asked her to dance, leaving me to drop my coat off by myself.

  My dress had taken me a little while to find, but I loved it. Over the tan slip was a layer of black lace, a slight train dragging across the floor behind me. Little jewels accented my breasts, where the sweetheart neckline hugged my form. There were matching elbow length gloves that went with it, leaving my shoulders bare. Everything had been picked to match my lacy, black mask, currently tied around my head and covering all the way up to my hair, which had been curled and framed around my face, the long locks reaching down my back.

  “You look lovely tonight, Miss Redford,” Mr. Lutz said as I gave my coat to the attendant. “And you looked lovely on stage.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, blushing. “It was an honor to be a part of the show.”

  “The honor was all mine,” he said, taking my hand and kissing it lightly. “Enjoy the party!”

  “I will, thank you!” Smiling, I made my way across the floor, taking some water from one of the waiters as he passed by.

  While the masked ball was a celebration of the end of the year, it was also one of the largest fundraising functions of the company. That’s why all dancers were required to attend and be on their best behavior—we were being paraded in front of potential and reoccurring investors.

  After a few moments, someone asked me to dance and I joined in on the festivities, spinning around in ballroom fashion with the other couples in the room. An unknown number of songs later, Meg found me and pulled me away, grabbing us a seat at one of the tables on the left side of the foyer.

  “Guess who’s here?” she asked me excitedly, setting her mask down.

  “Who?” A waiter came up to our section and left water glasses. “Thank you,” I said to him as he left.

  Pointing across the room, I could see the director and Miss Gini with another man in a mask.

  “Is that Colt?” I asked, trying to imagine the face without the cover.

  “It is,” she replied excitedly. “He stopped me when I was getting a drink and asked how I was. We’re going to dance in just a few minutes.”

  “How exciting,” I replied, laughing at her a little. “You missed him, I can tell.”

  Smiling slyly, she winked at me, taking a drink from her glass.

  “Excuse me?”

  Turning at the male voice, I looked up at the tall man who’d spoken, his face covered in a black mask that only showed below his cheek bones. Black hair sat above it, styled in a swoop to one side, almost like a wave. He was wearing an all black suit as well, gloves covering his hands.

  “Yes?” I asked politely.

  “May I have this dance?” He smiled widely, invitingly, his brown eyes sparkling from the slits in his cover.

  “Here comes Colt,” Meg said next to me, rising. “I’ll see you later!”

  Laughing, I rose from my chair, inclining my head to the man. “I would love to dance. I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you with your mask? Have we met before?” Reaching out to take the hand he offered me, I picked up the train of my dress and moved away from the table.

  Wrapping his fingers around mine, he leaned in quickly and kissed me on the cheek, causing me to gasp sharply.

  “It’s you,” I whispered in awe as he led me to the dance floor. There was no mistaking the sudden heat I felt when our skin touched. “Sir?”

  As we reached the dance space, he spun me around, pulling me close, waiting for the music to start.

  “My name is Eric,” he muttered in my ear, tightening his hold on me. “It would probably draw unwanted attention if you kept calling me Sir here.”

  Hearing the smile in his voice, I grinned, resting my forehead on his shoulder before the song started up. “I thought I was never going to see you again,” I confessed. “Why are you here? Why tonight?”

  Beginning to move with the group, we started the ballroom dance, spinning around and moving together just like we were always meant to.

  “I’m ready,” he spoke as we came together again. “I want to tell you who I am. I love you, Scarlet. I knew that I couldn’t see you again until I was ready, because it w
ould only make you upset when I couldn’t tell you the truth. I hope you’ll forgive me for leaving you for so long.”

  “I do,” I answered instantly.

  His touch, even with the gloves, excited me, my body begging for him to touch me the same way he had all those nights in the dark. Those feelings fell to the wayside at the thought of finally discovering who he really was, though.

  “Oh, how I want to kiss you,” he muttered, his lips coming close to mine before he pushed me away again. “I mean really kiss you. I’ve missed you, Scar.”

  People were watching us, pointing even, as we danced together. When the song ended, they clapped for us, suddenly making me realize that we’d been doing a very complicated routine that no one else was. We’d become the center of the dance floor and I hadn’t even noticed, I was so lost in staring into his eyes for the first time.

  Blushing, I curtsied to those who were watching, motioning for him to follow me. Passing by several well-wishers and admirers, I made my way to the side hall, stepping through one of the doors to the backstage area.

  “Eric,” I said, smiling as he stepped in after me. “Is that your real name?”

  “It is.” Taking my hands in his, he kissed each of them in turn before leaning in and tasting my lips. “I don’t know how you do it, but you are more beautiful every time I see you,” he confessed. “I’ve watched you a few times since you’ve been back, but they were nothing to being with you now.”

  “I wondered if you were still watching.” Feeling breathless, I laughed, fanning myself. “You being here is making me feel all out of sorts. I can’t believe that you’ve simply shown up and are ready to tell me everything.” A shadow of doubt crept into my mind and I frowned. “Why did you change your mind?”

  “You deserve to know,” he answered simply. “And I didn’t think I could keep it from you any longer. I needed to see you, to hold you again.”

  “I’m listening,” I prompted him, reaching up and touching his jaw, marveling at his face.